


My Heart is in Your Hands

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:51:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6009235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lifetime commitment to UNCLE and everything fit into two boxes. He was actually surprised. He hadn’t thought Illya the sentimental type. He’d expected a drawer full of salvaged paperclips, pens, pencils, and thumbtacks. Certainly there had been more than a fair share of those, but the exploration of the lower drawers revealed a side of his partner Napoleon had never expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart is in Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Black Illya](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Black+Illya).



 

Napoleon Solo sighed as he reached for another box. A lifetime commitment to UNCLE and everything fit into two boxes.  He was actually surprised.  He hadn’t thought Illya the sentimental type.  He’d expected a drawer full of salvaged paperclips, pens, pencils, and thumbtacks.  Certainly there had been more than a fair share of those, but the exploration of the lower drawers revealed a side of his partner Napoleon had never expected.

He pulled out a tiny bottle and memories filled him with warm feelings.

                                                                                ****

They’d been walking along the banks of a river. Mid-February, the fields were dotted with snow and chunks of ice drifted lazily by.

“I still saw that Hartman wasn’t paying attention. There was no way a THRUSH agent could have snuck by otherwise,” Napoleon said.  “He’s got his mind on something else these days.  I think he needs a refresher course.”

“Of course, I will support you in…” Illya held up a hand.  “Do you hear something?”

He stopped and concentrated. The wind was mild, rustling the dry grass, but it wasn’t strong enough to move anything but the smallest twigs of a nearby tree.  The water was silent.  “I don’t…” and then he heard it, a soft peep.

Illya’s eyes widened and without missing a beat, he’d stripped off his jacket and shoulder holster and shoes and leapt into the river.

“Illya, no!” Napoleon tried to shout, but he didn’t have the chance. Illya had already resurfaced and was swimming swiftly to a bag as it bobbed in the water.  A moment later, he’d snagged it and was headed back to shore.  Napoleon waded through the reeds, ignoring the icy bite of the water as it seeped into his shoes.

Leaning over, he reached out for Illya’s hand, but got the bag instead. He set it aside and then helped Illya up onto the shore.  Immediately Napoleon stripped off his jacket and put it around his shivering partner.

“I’m fine. Help them,” Illya said through chattering teeth.

Inside the bag was a half dozen kittens. Two didn’t make it, but the remaining four thrived under Illya’s care.  He even took vacation, compounded by a severe cold, so he could sit home and nurse them. 

At they were found close to Valentine’s Day, Napoleon jokingly suggested the names, Eros, Cupid, Rati and Osun and to his great surprise, Illya agreed

“How do you know when he’s full?” Napoleon sat very close to Illya, so close that they were touching, and there wasn’t a word of complain from the Russian.

“It’s she and Rati will let me know.” As intense as the kitten has been with the bottle, suddenly its attention wandered.  “And she’s through.”  He looked into Napoleon’s face as they were practically nose to nose.  “Be careful.  You don’t want to catch my cold.”

“I’m not worried. Solos are known for their resistance.”  For a moment, neither of them moved and then the kitten squirmed, pulling Illya’s attention.

“All right, I will put you down.” He reached for a second mewing kitten.  “Would you like to feed one?”

Napoleon balked. “I… it’s so small.”

“That’s Eros and he’s pure love.”

Illya took Napoleon’s hands in his and guided them.   The intoxicating sensation of Illya’s skin on him made him slightly giddy, then he felt something else, the kitten’s heartbeat, and he smiled.  Illya teased the kitten’s mouth with the bottle’s nipple and suddenly there was a sucking machine attached to it.  He chuckled and Illya passed the kitten over.

And while bottle feeding the squirming mewing mass of fur, Napoleon quietly fell in love with Illya.

 

It seemed like a million years ago. The next thing he pulled out was an acorn, its cap long since lost.    They’d first made love under an oak tree.  Illya must have found an acorn as they were leaving and pocketed it.  Scratched onto the nut was the date 2-14-65

Next was a fortune with a date scribbled on it - 2-14-68. _You will always have everything you need._ That made Napoleon sigh.  He continued to dig through the drawer.  There were wrapped chocolates, long forgotten, napkins with cryptic messages and so many memories that would mean nothing to someone else.  Then he pulled out a photo of a heart being formed by the forefingers and thumbs of two people.

 

They were in Tahiti, sunny wonderful Tahiti. Napoleon hadn’t been there in many years and certainly never as a tourist, but Illya had convinced him.  They’d finished their mission in Hawaii, then grabbed a plane to the Society Islands. 

“I can’t believe we’re here.” Napoleon opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony.  Papeete spread out before them and the glare of the sun off the Pacific Ocean was nearly blinding.  “And I thought it was warm in Hawaii.”  He looked back at Illya.  The Russian, though awake, hadn’t move from his sprawl across the king-size bed.  “You know, Kuryakin, you’re inviting trouble doing that.”

Illya rolled over, exposing his erection. “More trouble than this?”

They never made it out of the room that day and only when night had fallen, did they finally venture out to the dining room. On their way back, Illya had paused at the small hotel shop.  While he chatted with the sales girl, Napoleon studied the post cards.  One card in particular caught his eye.  It was of two hands forming a heart.

“She says that we will need to go to a chemist for what we are looking for, Napoleon.” Illya came up and glanced at the postcards.  “Are you going to send one back to Mr. Waverly?  Having a wonderful time.  Forget that I’m here?”  They laughed.  “You ready to head back up?”

“In a little while. I’m going to stretch my legs a bit.”  He watched until Illya disappeared and then quickly bought the card.

The next morning, Valentine’s Day, Napoleon handed Illya an envelope. With a smile, Illya passed one over to him.  Inside was a card, identical to the one he’d given Illya.  Even the sentiment written – _My heart is in your hands_ was the same.

He looked at Illya and they both laughed. “Great minds and fools,” Illya said, propping his card up against the bedside lamp.

“Then you will know exactly what I’m thinking.”

 

“Imagine holding onto this for all those years.”

“What would I have done with it otherwise?” Illya sat down heavily beside his desk.  The day had been hard on all of them.  “Do you still have the one I gave you?”

“I do.” Napoleon looked up at Illya’s voice.  “I didn’t hear you come in.  I finished with my desk and thought I’d give you a hand cleaning out yours.  Getting ready, you know.”

“You are just after my chocolate stash.” Illya picked up one of the ancient chocolates and unwrapped it. “Huh, it’s turned white.”

“They do that when you don’t eat them in time.”

Illya took a bite, then made a face and spit it into the trash. “I didn’t think chocolate would go bad.”

“When it’s over twenty years old, it does.” Napoleon dropped a pile of scratch paper into the wastebasket.

“I would have gotten around to cleaning it out, eventually.” They both knew that was a lie.

“I never thought this day would come.”

“No regrets?”

“None, well, maybe a few.” Napoleon looked back down at the card.  “I regret that it took me so long to see what was right in front of my nose.  I regret every day that passed that I didn’t tell you how I felt, but I don’t regret a moment of this.”

“Then let’s go. We can’t very well be late to our own retirement party.”

Napoleon reached out and took Illya’s hand, still so strong and sure. “And then?”

Illya smiled. “And then.”

 

 

 


End file.
